First Offence
by hmsxl
Summary: Reason One as to why we do not behave like an insolent little child in the face of Professor Snape... his detentions.


TITLE: FIRST OFFENCE

AUTHOR: Nixy

COMPLETED: Thursday, December 23, 2004 2:12:26 PM

EDITED: Monday, December 27, 2004 9:19:48 AM

RATING: PG

DISCLAIMER: I am not JKR, I am ME-RB, so nothing belongs to me.

SUMMARY: Reason One as to why we do not behave like an insolent little child in the face of Professor Snape.

TIMELINE: Harry's first year at Hogwarts

AN: I have had the VHS of the first HP movie for a while now, and only just today did I watch the never-before-seen footage that is at the end; Neville suffering hilariously from Malfoy's leg-locking charm and even more better: Potty himself mouthing off to Professor Snape. That scene, my darlings, is exactly the inspiration for this quick fic. This goes out to Daniel Radcliffe and Alan Rickman.

Harry packed up at the end of his first Potions class acting quite moody. He had just lost his house five points because he had to go and give cheek to what seemed like one of the ugliest and most moody professors in all of Hogwarts.  
Just as he was about to go, hoping to get out of the room before Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle could open their mouths, Snape looked up.  
"Just one moment, Potter. Stay back, I am going to have a word with you," Snape said before returning to whatever he was doing at his desk.  
Brushing past Harry, Malfoy made a smart-ass joke and his two lackeys laughed loudly, purposely. Harry saw Ron and Hermione shoot Malfoy and his two burly mates dirty looks as they passed, which only made the trio laugh harder. Harry grew exasperated as Hermione tapped her wrist as if miming a watch.  
Looking at Snape, he reckoned the Potions Professor would not be done any time soon and so he waved his two new friends off, settling at one of the desks at the front of the classroom.  
After a few more minutes of writing, in which Harry had used to daydream of ways he could curse Snape out of his teaching position, he came out of his thoughts to see Snape standing right before him.  
"Do you know why I asked you to stay behind, Potter?" He spat out the boys name as thought it were a vile thing that was in his mouth and he desperately wanted it out. That was not far from the truth.  
As he had done so many times that day, Harry shook his head in a silent 'no'.  
Growing impatient himself, Snape sighed and leaned close on the desk, his large nose so close to Harry's that their noses both touched as Snape spoke in a low, raspy whisper.  
"It is frivolous, unbiased persons, such as yourself, that make me wish more than ever that I had been chosen for another teaching position, as you clearly do not seem to care of the intricate art that is potion-making." He paused, letting that sink in good all the while staring deep into eyes that reminded Snape oh-so-much of Lily Evans, perhaps the most beautiful and most nice woman he had ever known of.  
"Such as myself? Look at you, slamming your way in here with the melodramatic flair of vampire," Harry's tone was hard now. He learnt early on in life, mainly from living with the Dursley's, to not let other's bully him. Of course, he knew nothing of Snape. Nothing at all. Except he was Head of Slytherin house and Hogwart's potions Professor.  
And every one knows it is dangerous to upset someone so seemingly powerful, intelligent and at times, semi-unstable in with-holding one's own emotions.  
Snape turned from Harry and swept his hand along the counter the boy was sitting at, sending glass beakers and a few cauldrons flying. The glass shattered instantly and Snape's lips twitched into a smirk. "You will clean all of that up, Potter. I will send a message to your next teacher to explain that you had a little tantrum in my class and are just cleaning up the remnants." Walking away with a self-satisfied smirk on his face, Snape sat down at his desk to pen the message.  
Glaring at the Professor's back, Harry reached into his robe for his wand, since Snape wasn't looking.  
"Accio wand!" Suddenly Harry's wand was yanked from his grasp by an invisible force and landed on Snape's desk. "You will clean it by hand. If you wish not to do it now, I can promise you a detention this evening with much more of a mess than you see here."  
Done with the note, Snape pressed his fingers together in a triangular formation, watching Harry. "The sixth years can be extremely messy," he taunted as the Boy Who Lived gingerly picked up shards of glass, cutting himself twice.

Twenty minutes and four more cuts later, Harry had cleaned up all of the glass and wiped up it's contents then cleaned up and put back the fallen cauldrons. Looking sadistically satisfied, Snape had finally let him go.  
Giving the letter to his next teacher, Harry found himself in McGonagall's classroom, being given a detention for that evening with Professor Snape anyway, as he had supposedly, 'thrown a temper tantrum'.  
That night, after the promised mess that Harry suspected wasn't just from the sixth years alone, he realized that Malfoy had been right about some thing: there were some people it was best to steer clear of.  
In this case, Harry learnt that he should just ignore Professor Snape, or at least, not get on his bad side ever ever again.

fin


End file.
